


Meta-Sexual

by Harpless



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bunker Fluff, Castiel Ships It, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean is Not Amused, Destiel - Freeform, Eventual Smut, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Grace Job, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Men of Letters Bunker, Meta, My First Fanfic, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Plot Devices, Sam Ships It, Swayze Gets a Pass, Voyeur Castiel, Voyeurism, Wing Appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:16:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8763853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harpless/pseuds/Harpless
Summary: It's quiet out there. Not much to do in the bunker except watch movies and read fan fiction.





	1. Chapter 1

"Guys, check this out," said Sam, lumbering into the bunker's TV room.

Dean hit pause on Roadhouse and he and Cas turned their heads in unison to give the giant their undivided attention.

"Get this, the prison over in Lansing has had an unexplained death every year on the anniversary of the execution of this guy, Capra, for over 40 years. Apparently he was a convicted serial killer back in the 70's. Turns out that the real killer was caught years later and Capra was exonerated posthumously.” 

“A lotta good that did him.” said Dean.

“Exactly, that's why I'm betting he's the one haunting the place. Definitely vengeful spirit material.” said Sam.

“So the bastard was innocent, but then became an actual serial killer after he died?” Dean succinctly summarized the injustice of the story. 

“Yeah, seriously, it's like 10,000 spoons when all you need is knife.” commented Sam, thinking the comparison was more clever than it was.

Dean saw the tell-tale head tilt in his periphery. Before the first word of the question escaped the angels lips, Dean gave a preemptive explanation, “Those are lyrics to a pop song about irony, Cas.”

“But, Dean, how are an excessive number of utensils...” Cas began the question asked by so many.

Dean cut him off, already knowing where he was going, “They aren't, but none of the examples in the song are actually ironic either. It's a debate among humans as to whether the singer didn't know the definition or irony, or in fact, was being ironic to fuck with everyone."

Cas took in the information with a solemn nod as if some great truth had been imparted unto him.

“Guys, we can talk more about Alanis when Dean admits he has a cassette of 'Jagged Little Pill' under the driver's seat. Now, the case...” Sam steered them on track.

Dean mumbled something about a girl leaving that and moved forward, "Let me guess, tomorrow is the anniversary and you thinking we should be there for the party?” 

"Yes, exactly." Sam was not surprised by Dean's ability to know what he and Cas would say before they said it. Dean could be pretty observant of those he spent a gagillion hours around, or of those he desperately wanted to make out with.

Sam continued, “Yes and it's only a few hours drive or so.”

"Perfect," Dean was already psyched up for the much needed hunt, "Anything else we need to know, Sammy?"

“Just one more thing. Listen to the last account..." Sam stood up straight and began a dramatic recitation, "as they strapped him into the electric chair, Dean leaned down and whispered into Cas's ear, 'You'll never be guilty to me...then they shared one final, passionate kiss before the executioner pulled the lever...'”

“Damn it, Sam!” Dean yelled.

Sam's devilish cackle filled the room when he saw Dean expression of recognition, followed immediately by anger. Despite Dean's objections (or more likely because of them) Sam enjoyed performing the occasional reading of fan fiction, but he had to get more creative in his delivery since Dean had no patience for it....for reasons. 

"It never gets old! That may be my favorite so far." Sam exclaimed, far too proud of himself.

“Seriously? You just spent all that time setting up another damn fan fiction joke?”

“Your dedication is quite impressive, Sam.” observed Cas.

“Thank you, Cas. At least someone appreciates me.” Sam smiled genuinely at the blue-eyed angel and truly hoped that Cas would blow his brother sometime in the near future. They were already living on borrowed, re-borrowed, stolen and pawned time, so it would be nice if these two would enjoy at least some of it.

“My fist is going to appreciate your face if you don't cut this crap out.” Dean grumbled. He was annoyed at falling for his brother's latest attempt at humor and equally disappointed he wasn't going on a hunt. The past couple weeks of nada were making him restless. And that was definitely the only thing making him restless, like, for sure it was only that.

“Why do you keep reading creepy-ass stories about your own brother, Sam? I have a million reasons to find that deeply disturbing.”

“Because they are fictional, Dean. And yeah it's weird, but it's fun-weird. I think it's actually kind of nice that at least some people are enjoying our lives.” Sam explained.

“Hey, I'm all for the ladies enjoying themselves all day long, but that doesn't make you any less of a deviant, Sam.” Dean retorted while trying to repress the thought of any fellas 'enjoying' themselves as well.

“You do know that not all of them are sexy, and a lot of them are actually pretty good. And many are," Sam looked pointedly between Dean and Cas, "...insightful."

Sam had long ago abandoned the subtle hints and now did everything short of lifting Dean up with his giant Sasquatch hands to physically shake out the last remnants of self-doubt, fear of rejection and internalized homophobia. As it turned out, Sam found he could crank the homoerotic references up to 11 all day long and still be met with avoidance from Dean and quizzical looks from Cas. 

Dean, avoiding the last comment completely, continued, “How do you manage to be a fangirl about your own life? You better not be writing that shit too. If I ever see anything that happened after the last book was published, I'll...:" Dean began to warn.

“Um, how would you ever see it if I did?” said Sam, catching Dean in an accidental revelation.

“I mean, if someone told, or you said or maybe..." but Dean wasn't quick enough, “Shut up!” 

Cas, picking up on the social cue of Dean's face becoming bright red, joined in the conversation, “There is no reason to be bothered by these narratives, Dean. It's actually very common for humans to expand and reinterpret their mythologies. Every book of the bible had multiple variations and appendices. I'm sure the same will happen anytime 'The Winchester Gospel' is republished."

"But there's no hurt/comfort going on in the New Testament," responded Sam, rightly assuming everyone in the room was familiar with the term.

"Isn’t there, Sam?” responded Cas, in an oddly knowing tone, "There are parallel, if not identical, themes throughout both texts. But it is true the more explicit and physically impractical stories were edited or fully removed long ago. For instance, Jesus had no sexual interest in Judas, but many followers insisted on crafting stories about 'Jedas' or 'J2'. They did the same for Matthew and Mark, however those were entirely accurate."

“Seriously? There was biblical slash fiction?” Sam was astounded and wondered where he could dig up some of those earlier versions.

“Yes, but there were also a substantial number of stories by authors who were adamant about pairing Jesus only with Mary Magdalene. This resulted in some degree of conflict within the community." Cas glanced thoughtfully off to the side of the room, "I am continually surprised at what humans take offense to.”

Most people, the kind who didn't want to bang Cas, probably would have been interested to hear more about Jesus, as he was a somewhat notable figure in history and all, but Dean only cared about the more immediate aspects of Cas's story.

“Um, been reading a lot of the fanfic, Cas?” Dean asked, his voice sounded more nervous than he would have liked.

"I've studied a fair sampling. I thought it might be of value to see how humans interrupted my behavior." Cas replied matter-of-factually.

"We're humans who interpreted your behavior, and without the robots and tentacles." Dean pointed out.

"Yes, however, you and Sam are demographically identical. Therefore, I am exposed to only a very narrow section of humanity." explained Cas.

"I don't know, I think we are pretty representa..." Sam stopped himself, paused for a moment and continued, "Actually, good call, Cas."

“My studies also provided an unexpected benefit," Dean's eyes widened as Cas continued, "While I admit my people skills require further improvement, it is affirming to know that some of my behaviors which are deemed awkward and embarrassing to you, are seen as endearing and even attractive to a number of Supernatural fans.”

“Yeah, but maybe fan fiction authors aren’t your best resource for people skills either.” Dean said in an unnecessarily judgey tone.

“Yes, perhaps all my social skills should come from hunters and demons.” Cas demonstrated his Winchester-taught fluency in sarcasm.

“I capiche." Dean conceded.

Dean's brain actively began putting thoughts of Cas reading dirty stories about them behind the same wall that barricaded him from joyfully signing aloud to Air Supply and taking ballet lessons.

Dean's pause and distracted look was misinterpreted by Cas, “Do not worry Dean, while I find the stories informative, I am well aware of your preferences IRL, which means 'in real life'.” Cas sighed dramatically, and gazed off to the side. 

The sigh was weird, even for Cas. Especially for Cas, actually. It felt rehearsed and didn't fit with every other movement Dean witnessed, mentally cataloged and reviewed over and over. But it did remind him of something he read... Dean was so occupied by trying to figure out the gesture that he didn't notice the smug but affectionate look on Sam's face as he watched the two idjits. 

“However," Cas moved on, "according to a smaller, but very passionate subsection, Sam is actually the one enamored with me, which I find far more believable.”

“Hey! what?" Sam's look of superiority vanished as he nearly did a smoothie spit-take, "Cas...I'm not, not that it's bad but, I mean I'm sure you'd be...and you're certainly....but that's not...” As he stuttered a bunch of nonsense, he noticed a little gleam in Cas's eye.

“Wait, Cas, are you messing with me?” Sam asked with equal parts surprise and respect.

“Not in the Sastiel sense, but yes Sam, I was attempting to make you uncomfortable as you did Dean earlier.” Cas disclosed triumphantly, now breaking into a full smile.

Dean's laughter filled the bunker. He was impressed that the ratio of intentional vs. non-intentional humor from Cas was balancing out. He was also relieved that Cas wasn't actually hitting on Sam.

Cas was delighted by the sound of Dean laughing and proud of himself for correctly calculating what the brothers would find amusing. He was feeling so socially confident at that moment that he looked over to Dean and gave him a mischievous wink.

Dean did his best to look unphased as he almost came.

Sam looked back and forth between the two, “As fictional me as said thousands of times, in hundreds of stories, 'Get a room you two.'”

“Perhaps we will if you are not busy copulating with Gabriel in all of them.” said Cas, deadpan as fuck. He was really on a roll.

That one was so adorable that Sam briefly thought he might have to rethink his stance on Sastiel if his dumbass brother didn't make a goddamn move soon. He gave Cas a pat on the shoulder, “Nice one, Cas.” as he left the room, shaking his Easter Island head.

“You're developing quite a mouth on you, buddy.” Dean observed.

“I'm fairly certain that my mouth is already fully formed, Dean.” Cas pursed his lips as if that were somehow demonstrative and not at all suggestive.

“Yes, yes it is." replied Dean as internal sirens began blaring in his head. This was followed up by internal red flashing lights and a tiny internal submarine captain ordering, “Dive! Dive!”

"So, um...I think I am going to head to bed now, 'night, Cas.” Dean made a quick escape to his room as his raging, wink-induced erection attempted to push its way through his jeans.

Cas watched the hunter run off, most likely to masturbate, he assumed. Cas was well aware that Dean was aroused in his presence, however, Dean was also aroused by most women, a nearly equal proportion of men, cheeseburgers, the smell of motor oil, the sound of a shotgun, watching Dr. Sexy, punching a monster, playing air guitar and a wide array of pastries. Really, Dean was in an aroused state a shocking amount of time. Cas lamented the fact that, unlike some of the stories he read, he was not actually able to hear what Dean thought about as he pleasured himself. Prayers are very intentional, and if Dean did say his name, it wouldn't register to Cas without Dean wanting it to. So that left Cas unable to discern if Dean's body was reacting to him in a more or less meaningful way than it would to a slice of homemade pie. Although if Dean did treat pie as some fan fiction suggested, Cas thought he could be okay with that.

Having the rest of the night to himself, Cas settled back down on the couch and hit play on Roadhouse. He knew Dean wouldn't mind if he finished it without him since this was far from their first screening. 

Castiel found the tale of a protective, chiseled bouncer with a simple, but honorable code to be quit comforting. And as this was one of Dean's favorite films, Cas always made a point of watching for any subtle elements that would help him better understand his hunter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes to his room. That pretty much covers it.

Dean realized that in his rush to reach his bed, he had slammed his bedroom door just a little too hard as he heard the loud thud and resulting reverberations echoed down the hall. _Oh, well, no time to worry about that now_ , he thought as he locked the door. Once safely and securely alone in his room, not even a hex bag set to "masturbate" could have made him move faster. Dean undid his belt, button and zipper comically fast, his pants still in the process of falling around his ankles as he toppled onto the foam mattress. Most of the time, Dean would be amused by the Benny Hill-esque antics, but he couldn't appreciate the humor of the situation with his cock threatening to explode. 

Dean's hand dove under his boxer briefs, wrapped around his stiff cock and stroked furiously. His face was a mixture of relief, tension and wanting. His body responded to his well practiced hand, he felt the familiar rush of pleasure he needed so badly, he felt the tightening of abdominal muscles as they coiled like a spring, but most of all he felt the all consuming desire to have someone else there with him...ah, hell, the desire to have Cas there with him. 

Dean let out a soft moan as images of Cas ran through his head like a super-sexy rolodex; scruffy Cas back from Purgatory, adorable Cas announcing he wanted to be a hunter, crazy Cas naked on his car covered in bees, sexy as fuck Cas walking purposely towards him surrounded by flying sparks. Yeah, even back then, not that Dean recognized it immediately. He had assumed the new all-encompassing feeling of awe and connection was the cumulative effect of adrenaline plus the theatrical manner in which Cas revealed himself. Cas may have nearly everything to learn about humanity and his place in the universe, but damn that guy knew how to make an entrance. 

Dean tightened his grip, as if to punish his cock for expressing so accurately what was going on in his head. His body responded with equal an opposite force, causing beads of sweat to form on his brow as his hips thrust up to meet his hand. Dean twisted and groaned as more highly inappropriate images possessed him. 

Christ, Dean thought he had a dirty mind before, but all that slash had expanded his erotic imagination considerably. Those people were out of control. Seriously. But he was totally down for reading every last fucked up scenario the writers wanted to put them in. _Endverse_? Sure, Dean was still kicking himself for not making more out of that experience. _Angst_? Just another day at the office. _Purgatory_? Benny/Cas...abso-freakin'-lutely, _Pie_? Been there, done that. _Fuck or Die_? Bring it. _Fluff_? All. Day. Long. (but don't let that one get out)

Dean willed himself to slow down as he reached for the lube in the nightstand. His wanted to enjoy this a little longer now that all kinds of possibilities were running loose in his brain. His slicked hand rushed back to his straining cock which immediately made him think about the wetness of Cas's mouth, the softness of his tongue...

It was torturous enough to be attracted to the parts of Cas he could see, but now thanks to fan fiction, Dean discovered this whole “wing kink” business. Just great, a new, possibly purely fictitious, thing to be aroused by. After devouring countless stories, he sometimes caught himself staring at Cas's back for an unseemly amount of time, imagining majestic wings just an ethereal plane away. Wings that could brush over his naked body, wings that could embrace him while he slept, wings that he could touch to make Cas lose his goddamn angel mind. 

But by far, his favorite stories were the ones where Cas could hear all of Dean's thoughts as if they were prayers. After considerably more time than it would have taken a less damaged and stubborn person, Dean believed he identified the reason he had such a proclivity towards mind-reading fantasies. 

In a word, cowardice. 

If any word could make Dean Winchester go soft, that would be it. As it turned out, no word could. 

If Cas could read his mind, then it was all up to Cas – no work or possible rejection from Dean needed. It was so simple and obvious but Dean's fear of loss was arguably his most powerful driving force and he was at its mercy most of the time. The mere idea of getting up the balls to ask Castiel if he would like to..what...get a drink? Fuck right there on the floor? Go to prom with him? Well, whatever the suggestion would be, just the thought that Cas would say “no” nearly brought him to tears. Cas would reject him and leave. Why would he be different than everyone else? Dean had made a solemn pact with himself to never again cry while masturbating. So Dean took a deep breath, refocused and continued whacking off like a pro.

Dean was fairly certain the angel couldn't hear him now. Besides, if Cas had picked up every little “ _oh...Cas_ ” that Dean muttered under his breath, there was no way he wouldn't have mentioned it before, not comprehending why that wouldn't be a totally normal thing for a couple bros to chat about. The dude barely understood the most basic rules of polite conversation now, so if he had picked up on Dean thinking “ _Are you sure you're not a hammer, because I'd love for you to nail me._ ” on that park bench years ago, Cas definitely would have commented on it, and probably in the context of carpentry. As emotional and turned on as he was, an amused smile still managed to push through Dean's lips as he thought of just how ridiculous Castiel could be sometimes. Sexy and ridiculous.

Should it turn out someday that Cas had been tuning in to Dean-radio all this time and had been watching Dean or in some way perving out invisibly in the corner – he'd be just fine with that. Really fine, actually. 

So fine with it in fact, that his mind fell into the worn groove of a particular fantasy...

_Dean imagined a scene very much like the one he was in now. He was in the same position, sprawled out in bed, underwear around his knees, one hand under his shirt, tracing over his nipple while the other pumped away below._

_He thought very much the same things he was thinking now and whispered the angel name like a montra. Only here, in this story, Cas would have heard Dean from the very first breathy call of his name and immediately teleported himself into Dean's room._

_Cas had witnessed every kind of human act, sexual and otherwise. None held his attention as much as watching Dean Winchester pleasure himself. If he had the strength to resist this clear intrusion of privacy, the continued sound of his name coming from Dean's lips had overpowered it._

_Cas had watched him many, many times...always unseen and unheard. He always masked his owns sounds from the hunter so he too could find pleasure in the moment and come with Dean, even if Dean didn't know. Especially if Dean didn't know. Despite the evidence writhing in front of him, Cas still couldn't believe that Dean would want to make this part of his life, in the way Cas wanted. While his voyeurism was enjoyable up to a point, more often than not, when Cas exited feeling regret, shame and insurmountable longing._

_There was nothing notable about this night, nothing significant had occurred, no major story arcs had come to an end, but tonight Cas felt something different as he watched the hunter._

_As Dean's breathing suggested he was nearing climax, something in Cas just snapped. Something decided it was time. Something needed to happen._

_Dean was startled by a rustle in the room, he froze and readied himself for anything as the sound of footsteps came closer. Then he heard the two words that felt like thunder rolling down his spine, “Hello Dean.”_

Dean's breath quickened and his grip tightened. He loved this part...

_“You called for me, Dean?”_

_“I was thinking about you, but I guess you know that.”_

_“I've always known.” confessed the angel, as he walked to the side of the bed_

_“Hear anything you like?” Dean asked, way cooler than he would if this were real._

_Without warning, Dean's arms jerked up and were pinned against the headboard, his remaining clothing vanished and his legs spread wide. The completely exposed hunter stared helplessly into Cas's eyes. There was only the faintest hint of amusement on the angel's face as he leaned down and whispered, "I liked everything."_

_Dean felt something touch his cock, then surround it, but there was nothing there. Dean looked up quizzically and was met with just a flash of a smile. Sneaky dick tricks couldn't possibly be on the list of approved uses of grace, but his Cas was a rebel. *swoon* The literally magic fingers began lightly at first...the air around him compressed and moved rhythmically up, down and around his shaft. Dean threw back his head, biting his bottom lip, as the speed and complexity of the movements increased._

_Cas stayed still and just...watched. Still fully clothed, still fully composed, while Dean lost every bit of control in front of him._

_As Dean neared the edge, Cas removed his trench coat, with no particular sense of urgency, placed it neatly over the back of the chair. He ran his hand down the garment to ensure it was laid smoothly. He slid the suit jacket off his shoulders, folded it over neatly and set on the dresser. He took off his sensible shoes and placed them by the door, perfectly aligned. Nothing about Castiel's actions even hinted at the fact that there was a very hot, very aroused, very in love with him, hunter tethered to the bed in the midst of a mind-blowing grace job._

_“What the hell, Cas?” cried Dean, his body still being pulled to the brink, “I'm about to come and you're reenacting the opening of Mr. Rogers.”_

_Cas didn't say a word. He just gave Dean the slightest, amused eye roll and let out gentle sigh as he removed his tie, treating it with the same care as his other garments. Dean never found being dismissed so hot. His wanton and impatient gaze affixed on Cas as he undid his cuff links and them carefully next to the jacket. Castiel's hands reached his belt and removed it just as methodically. The belt joined the tidy collection of clothing. Then Dean heard the sound of the items being rearranged...rearranged! Jesus, either Cas had developed OCD or was a straight up sadist._

_“Seriously?!? Come on!” agonized Dean._

_Now Cas could barely hide the pleased look as he faced Dean. His movements still calm and measured, he rolled up his sleeves and approached the bed._

_“You know, Cas, most strip teases end with far less clothing.”_

_Cas regained his stoic stare and locked eyes with Dean as he wordlessly unbuttoned his shirt._

_Cas was far less concerned with the tidiness of the shirt, letting it just drop right to the ground. He removed his remaining clothing just as unceremoniously. Dean was attempting to imbue himself with night vision by shear force of will, when he heard a loud crackle and felt goosebumps pop up all over. There was a shift in the air and suddenly, as if lightening had touched down only inches away, flashes of bright light illuminated the darkened room, revealing Castiel's fully-winged form._

_Dean failed spectacularly at holding back a whimper while watching the literally awesome wings unfurl. The other worldly appendages were fucking amazing. Even more amazing, the angel that owned them...the naked angel that owned them...the naked angel that owned him...leaned down over the bed, brought his lips to Dean's ear and growled, “I'm going to fuck you now, Dean.”_

“Fuck...Cas!” Dean exclaimed before he came crazy-hard, every muscle in his body tensed, and released simultaneously. He had yet to construct the end of that fantasy since he rarely made it even this far.

His breathing evened out and his brain returned to a more rational state. 

Damn it! He was pretty sure he heard himself call out Cas's name for reals. The guy can't read minds but he could certainly hear someone yelling through a door. Dean hoped no one heard that, but also, he kinda hoped they did. 

That rational state of mind lasted roughly 10 seconds before his head began filling with questions...

_Was Cas really reading fan fiction for only research purposes?_

_If not, did he get turned on reading it...?_

_Was there anything in particular he'd like to try out...?_

Before he could get worked up again dwelling on those thoughts, something terrible occurred to the anxious hunter. 

_Shit! What if Cas found fan-fiction a turn on because no one in his life did it for him?_

_What if Cas was into Dean, but as a woman? Dean couldn't just hop into a new vessel even if he wanted to (and he would kinda want to, at least for a little bit)._

_What if he dug Dean as a high powered business man? That would be harder to pull off than a gender swap._

_Or worse, maybe Cas was really into Sam, or Meg, or Benedict Cumberbatch...? Damn it! He hadn't thought about crossovers. How the fuck could he compete with Iron Man or the tenth Doctor?_

Dean, while troubled and turned-on, finally managed to drift off to sleep. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Meanwhile, Sam was in his room down the hall, re-reading a favorite Sabriel story before bed. Was there a word for being turned on by women writing gay porn about you? He thought about it unproductively for a moment, shrugged his gargantuan shoulders, whacked off and fell asleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cas talk. It's adorable.

Sam was up before the sun, beginning the routine that kept him in what could reasonably be described as unreasonably good shape. Push-ups completed, he went into the kitchen to whip up a smoothie, thinking of adding an entire banana today as a treat. He heard the closing notes of “I've had the Time of my Life” coming from the television room. That's weird, he usually only heard that coming room Dean's room, since Dean didn't realize that sound could travel under door. Sam was kind enough not to bring it up, knowing that Dean would be more embarrassed about that than he was about his animated Japanese porn hobby.

Heading into the room to wake and make fun of Dean (he was in the common area after all), he found that it was actually Cas on the sofa as Baby successfully performed The Lift. He was staring intently at the notebook in front of him, gnawing on the end of the pen.

“'Mornin' Cas.”

“Good morning, Sam.”

“How was the movie?”

“It was very educational. I enjoy the anti-authoritarian theme and the encouragement to experiment sexually outside your given stratum.”

“Makes sense.” Sam said, testing the waters.

“How so?” the response a bit nervous.

“Well, you know, the whole rebellion thing.”

“Oh, yes. That.” Cas seemed to be expecting a different response.

“Watcha working on there?” Sam dipped back in.

Cas paused, it only took a second for his expression to go from uncomfortable, to scared, to a look of resolve. 

“Sam. I would like to ask for your assistance in a personal matter.”

“Sure thing, buddy” going immediately into “I'm sorry your husband was disemboweled” mode, Sam sat down next to the concerned angel.

Cas looked him directly in the big moose eyes and provided the preface, “It involves, matters of the heart.”

“Well. you're in luck because those just happen to be my favorite kind of matters," Sam smiled reassuringly, "So what's up dude?” It was obvious from the earnest look and the entirely unnecessary use of air quotes around “matters of the heart" that Cas had something big to say and Sam wanted him to feel safe.

Cas sighed, knowing that once he said it aloud, he couldn't take it back. He looked at the floor as he said, “It involves Dean.”

“I thought it might.” Sam said in his most sincere this-house-is-clean tone.

Feeling a wave of relief at the response, “I thought you might think it might.” Cas said with a soft smile.

“Who's on first?”

“That is accurate.”

Once he and Dean had acquainted Cas with the Abbot and Costello routine, it became a running gag between them. Cas dryly responding “Third base” when he or Dean said “I don't know” was never not funny. The time Cas busted out his sure-fire joke on Crowley during a heated argument, they nearly lost their shit.

That morning, the bit brought a much needed tension-breaking laugh. 

“I was hoping you could review something for me.” Cas turned a page in the journal and handed it to Sam.

“Of course.” He took the book and began reading with an earnest look on his face, happy that Cas was trusting him and seeking advice.

Approximately two minutes elapsed before the notebook was violently jettisoned across the room with poltergeist-level force. Sam jumped to his feet, face drained of color. 

“Dude!” he exclaimed to the startled angel.

Sighing heavily, Cas got up to retrieve his journal that Sam threw, “Is it not acceptable? I thought I was following the general formula rather closely.”

“It's...it's not the formulas, Cas. It's that you just handed me slash about you and my brother.” 

“Since you seem well-versed in the area, I thought you wouldn't mind giving me your thoughts. The Sam in the stories would actually be pleased with this development, but I may have misjudged how much overlap there is. I apologize if I misinterpreted your joking as a sincere suggestion that Dean and I should...should...form an even more profound bond.” Cas looked stoic as usual but Sam heard a small crack in his voice...and fuck...were his eyes welling up?

“Oh, Cas...that's not it. That's not it at all.” He sat back down as gracefully as his frame allowed. 

“It is okay, Sam. I may have gotten so caught up in the stories that I myself began to construct one based on my own interruptions.” 

“Seriously, that's not the issue. I totally want you and Dean together. Like together together. And listen, I am sure that Dean does too." He looked at Cas's disbelieving expression and repeated pointedly, "I am sure." 

"However," Sam continued," to know the actual details of the actual acts is just....it's...well, really, really gross.” Trying immediately to recover from the only remark that truly expressed how he felt, “Not that it is gross for you guys to do...whatever, but knowing about it, like for real, is a little uncomfortable for me.” 

“I don't understand. You are fine with the other stories.”

“You know what, I don't totally understand, but for some reason fan fiction is fine, but when it could become non-fiction I get weirded out.” Sam steered towards a slightly less icky aspect of this topic “Okay, so we've established that I can't help you with proofreading the filth you wrote about my brother, but I would be more than happy to talk about feelings...”

Cas looked skeptical, but relieved, “Okay, I do feel that I want to penetrate...”

“Whoa there! Okay, when I said feelings I meant emotions, not physical sensations.” 

“Oh,” said Cas sheepishly realizing his error, “Yes, I'm sorry, I think I understand, Sam. Thank you for your patience.”

“Absolutely. So, I definitely get what you want...no need to elaborate there, but what is the plan for this story?” 

“I thought I could present it to him over breakfast.”

“Yeah, no. Don't do that. That's a little direct for Dean, and a little weird in general. Let's see....well, please don't tell him I told you this, but he likes to hang out in your room like a creep when you are away.” 

“Yes, I am aware. Of the hanging out, not of the creep part.”

“Do your angel sense tingle when that happens?” Sam asked, immediately regretting the use of the word 'tingle'.

“More like olfactory...whenever I return there is the distinct scent of red meat, whiskey, motor oil and lavender that I associate with Dean. Although I have yet to discern how the herb fits in...I haven't seen it on cheeseburgers before.”

“Oh, that's the shampoo that Dean makes fun of me for buying and then uses constantly. I actually found a different brand more suited to my hair type,” he ran a colossal hand through his luxurious tresses, “but I keep buying the lavender one for Dean since I know he would never buy it for himself.”

“So in order to help Dean obtain what he wants you employ trickery?”

“Yeah, that's one way to put it.” 

“So in this scenario, I am the lavender shampoo?"

“Yes, let's go with that. And like the shampoo, it won't take much since Dean is head over heels for you already," Sam immediately regretted the phrase 'head over heels' given what little of Cas's writing he had read, "He'll fall into whatever sham we construct because he wants to." 

"How can you be so sure?" He wanted to trust Sam but was having a hard time allowing himself to do so.

"How about this, if I'm wrong, you can shave my head."

"That is very sure!" Cas responded with surprise to the level of Sam's conviction. 

"So, I can help with the plan and some high level structural story ideas...like sky-high level. Oh, and definitely don't mention that I know anything because that will freak him out. But it doesn't need to be a secret, you know...after.”

“After the sexual acts that you do not want described?”

“Yes. Those. Exactly.” 

“Thank you Sam. I very much appreciate your help. I hope that I can return the favor someday by helping you fulfill a sexual desire.” Cas said with all sincerity.

“Yeah, I'm good right now, but thanks man.” Sam smiled at the innocent, but not at all innocent-sounding offer. Dean could battle demons, the Mark of Cain and hell itself, but there was no way he would be able to resist this guy. “Now here's what we'll do...”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cheap plot device leads to sexy times.

Dean stumbled into the kitchen at the crack of noon to find Sam and Cas chatting about vegetables. Fighting the urge to immediately turn back around, he poured himself a cup of coffee. He demonstrated further self-control by not adding a little whiskey in order to deal with the ridiculous conversation going on around him. How could these two people that he loved so much be so, so boring? 

_Shit, maybe that means I'm getting boring?_ He blocked out that thought and tried to engage.

“Wait, lobsters are vegetables?” asked Dean, having decided that he would engage by annoying them.

“Cruciferous, Dean, not crustacean.” corrected Sam in his I'm Mr. Perfect voice.

“Whatever, it's all not a burger or a pie to me.” Dean replied, enjoying the duel eye rolls his response received. “So, what's the news today?”

“Same as yesterday. Still quiet. No signs, no unusual stories, as far as I know, no earth ending event on the horizon.”

“Okay, seriously, how can no one be possessed and nothing be haunted?” 

“Well, you can keep complaining or you can enjoy the day.” 

“What do you have in mind?” Dean was hopeful that Sam might actually have something interesting planned.

“I'm going to the farmers' market and then checking out the French New Wave festival at the art house downtown.” Sam explained, as if it were a perfectly non-lame way to spend a day.

“Jeez, Sammy, if i didn't already know what hell looked like, I would guess that you just described it. Cas and I are going to find something fun to do. Dean looked to Cas and raised his eyebrows, “Whadda say, Cas? Want to hit the track? Start a fight at a strip club?” _Snuggle up on the couch and watch Ghost?_ He kept that one to himself. 

“Actually, Dean I am going to accompany Sam. That sounds very pleasant.” Cas looked at Sam with a knowing smile.

Shit, worried Dean, maybe Sam and Cas are dating? Those plans were way gayer than anything he ever fantasied about. 

“Oh, okay, I have a lot of stuff to do anyway. Baby could use a tune up and the game isn't gonna watch itself.” Everyone pretended that Dean didn't sound disappointed.

“Alright then, see you later.” The pair without a profound bond grabbed the reusable canvas shopping bags and took off.

 _Ass-hats_. Dean muttered, moping around the bunker. He soon found himself in front of Cas's unoccupied room, as usual. He lingered outside the door for a moment, as if there was a debate as to whether or not he was going to go inside and pine away for the angel of the lord who had no right being that attractive. He sighed to himself, “Okay, Stalky McStalkerson”, opened the door slowly and went inside. He still hand't been able to place the scent, the closest he could get to it was thunderstorm. Sexy thunderstorm. He glanced around the room, looking at the bed, the desk....and a journal on the desk. That was new.

He and Sam had offered to get Cas a laptop several times (especially Dean), but he always refused saying he had no need for one. It did make sense that Cas would go old school, he'd probably use tablets if the bunker had enough room.

Dean walked over to the desk and ran a finger over the journal's cover. He traced over the Enochian symbol tooled into the leather cover, feeling a little uneasy about the invasion of privacy he already decided he was going to perpetrate.

The first couple pages detailed a standard salt and burn case they had a few weeks back, then some musings about the nature of monsters. Cas started a hunter's journal? Dean was psyched. Maybe this means that Cas had decided to stick around and planned to keep doing the hunting thing with them. There were at least a couple hundred pages in the book, that would take some time to fill. His momentary optimism faded as the journal began to look more like an hourglass.

The next few pages contained only drawings of wings. Some close up, detailing each individual feather, some showing a full winged figure gliding though the clouds. They looked peaceful and light... everything their life wasn't. Even Dean could sense longing in those drawings. 

The next page simply said:  


_Successfully joked with Sam and Dean today. Really starting to feel like one of the guys._

Dean chuckled and thought to himself “He's dorky on paper too.”

Still knowing he shouldn't, Dean continued. In just these few minutes he felt like he'd gotten an intimate glance into Cas's mind that couldn't be obtained by any other means, except by, you know, talking to him directly. That certainly wasn't an option. A conversation about what anyone, yet alone an angel, wanted from life certainly wasn't going to wrap up with “What I really dream of is living in an armed, magic, underground bunker with well-intentioned, alcoholic, sociopath.” So why even start that kind of talk? It would never end in his favor.

Despite the fact he had nearly brought himself to tears, Dean kept reading. The next entry was much longer and Dean's heart rate quickened when he saw that his name appeared in this one several times. It shot up further when a couple other word lept out at him. 

He forced his eyes to focus on the beginning of the entry...this couldn't possibly be what it looked like.

_Dean was alone in the bunker and very attractive. The angel Castiel, who was also quite attractive was out with the larger Winchester, Sam. Whilst possessing symmetrical features, Sam was not particularly appealing to Castiel in a sexual sense._

Dean thought, _Okay, awkward...but I'm into it._. Smiling as he realized that applied to the clunky opening lines as well as to Cas. 

“Hello, Dean.” Dean's head whipped up to see the (quite attractive) outline of the angel standing in the doorway.

Dean rarely felt this trapped, “Uh, oh, Cas...I was walking by and...this fell and...,” he gave up quickly, “Shit. I'm sorry, Cas I was snooping around your room.” 

“It's okay, Dean, I don't want to have any secrets from you.”

“Well, that's awesome, but I'll just be going, maybe Sam needs help with...” started Dean, setting down the journal and heading to the door.

“Sam is still out.”

“Oh.”

“And he said he would be for some time.”

“Oh.”

“Well I'm sure you want your privacy after I broke in and all...” Dean wanted nothing more than to flee, feeling embarrassed and ashamed for the violation. He was inches away from Cas, but the angel did not move from the doorway.

“Um, may I pass or do I have to answer your riddles three?”

“No riddles, Dean, but why don't you go back to reading? You appeared interested in the story and I would be grateful for any critique you'd like to offer.

“Umm...okay I guess, that's weird but,” (but also super hot) “Yeah, so if you insist,” Dean shuffled backwards to the desk and picked up the journal, “where was I...” he got back to the page and started quietly reading from where he left off.

“I meant you should read it out loud.”

“Seriously?” Dean asked flustered and aroused by the request.

“Seriously.” Cas said with all seriousness.

Dean re-categorized “request” to “order” and felt the desire to comply. A deep, deep, desire to comply.

“Ok...so I guess I have no choice, huh?” Dean could feel his face flush and his dick growing hard. _What the fuck was going on?_ “Let's see, umm, where was I...so, we're both very attractive and Sam, not so much and:

_Dean went into Cas's room and began rifling though his journal._

“What the hell, Cas? You knew I would do this? Are you tapping into some kind of prophet power?”

“In the literal sense, no, but if I have ascertained the situation correctly. There are only a few scenarios that are statistically likely. Please continue.” Cas walked fully into the room and closing the door behind him. 

Dean's voice trembled as he continued: 

_Dean's voice trembled..._

“Damn it Cas! Come on!”

Cas laughed, Dean almost came. 

“Again Dean,” he began, walking closer, “humans are more predictable than they like to admit, even you...at times. I assumed that in this situation, it would be difficult to maintain an even tenor, so I guessed....correctly it seems.”

“You know me well”

“I hope that is true.”

“No friggin' joke, Cas, If I look down and see that the next line is 'You know me well' I am going to freak the fuck out.”

“I assure you,” Cas took another step closer, “that is not the next line.” 

Turning attention back to the journal, Dean read aloud: 

_Cas paused and looked Dean up and down, surveying his form._

Dean looked up at Cas, “Yep, staring at me like a weirdo. Check.” 

Cas, not reacting to Dean's comment, took another step towards the hunter. 

Dean just quietly nodded as he looked back to the page: 

_To an outside observer, this stare would appear thoughtful, showing a detached curiosity, perhaps akin to a scientist observing a subject. In actuality, the thoughts going on in The angel's head were libidinous in nature, bordering on carnal. If he prescribed to the laws of men, there might be cause to worry about their legality, fortunately, this was not of his concern._

Dean raised his head to stare at that stare. Cas had looked at him like that hundreds of times. The idea that Cas was always thinking along 'libidinous' lines...  


Feeling emboldened by the angels confession, Dean went a little off-script...”I think you left out a line, Cas...”

“Did I, Dean?” Cas said coolly, raising an eyebrow. While as nervous as he'd ever been on the inside, he managed to maintain the even demeanor that Sam advised was necessary for this to work. It seemed so far that the former abomination was right.

“Yeah, it should also say...Dean had always found the the angel's stare to be really fucking hot.”

Cas's expression remained stoic, “An oversight on my part. However, that being the case, I suspect you will find the next portion of the story quite enjoyable.” By this time Cas was very close, on-the-phone-at-the-morgue close.

Dean's breathing sped up, he had never appreciated literacy more... 

_Cas's hands moved to grip Dean's hips_

and as Cas grabbed his hips, Dean made an audible, almost cartoonish gulp that gave finally allowed Cas to become as confident as he had been pretending to be.

_Cas slowly lowered himself to his knees like a penitent man, but without any hint of remorse._

Dean took it all back, he freakin' loved fan fiction:

_Cas's hands moved from his hips to his waist, his head just centimeters from Dean's now clearly bulging crotch. Cas slowly unbuttoned Dean's jeans and with a swift pull, brought them and his underwear down to the ground. Cas's mouth so close that the hunter could feel his breath along his cock._

Dean froze, having momentarily forgotten how words worked, but regained his senses in order to continue:

_Cas's lips brushed over the head of his cock and Cas, looking up into Dean's green eyes, tried to convey the magnitude of his want before taking him into his mouth completely._

Dean looked down to meet Cas's wanton stare “Jesus, Cas,” Dean thew his had back as he felt Cas surround him. Hands trembling, he tried to keep the story going:

_In the immeasurable time I've been alive, there has never been a moment in which I've felt this much. The blissful abandon of bringing him to this state and the ravenous hunger that will not be sated until he comes for me...comes in me._

The journal hit the floor, Dean panicked, afraid that the spell would be broken. He cast his own spell, consisting entirely of begging “Cas, please keep going...”

Dean's wish was granted as he suddenly found himself on his back in Cas's bed. Teleportation was the least disorienting thing going on right now so Dean barely registered that it even happened. He did suddenly wonder why Cas had a bed at all...was it for this? As he felt the full, wet, angel lips moved up and down his cock, Dean made a mental note to talk furniture later. 

Dean ran his hand through Cas's hair, hearing and feeling an approving hum. He looked down, watching Cas's mouth move deftly around him. 

If Dean died right now, he knew exactly what his heaven would be.

His whole body began to shudder, Cas's hand tightened around his shaft while the other wandered further back. Dean emitted a low groan as he felt a finger tease him from behind.

The intensity grew, the pulsing waves of pleasure radiating from his cock spread throughout his body. The tension continued to build, his toes curled, his thighs shaking, his abs tight from the tension.

“You are... I can't... Cas, mmm... I need to...”

Before being conscience of it, he tightened his grasp on Cas's hair as he thrust up deeper into the angel's mouth. He paused for just a moment, realizing that this might be getting a little too rough, but Cas quickly assuaged those fears by lifting Dean's ass up higher and making a lascivious growling noise.

“Fuck, Cas, oh... fuck, you're so...”

Cas's increased speed as teasing finger now slide easily into Dean. Dean was overloaded, pressing down, thrusting up...on the edge of snapping.

“Going to ...mmmm... Cas... fuck, love.. so good... please....Cas!”

Dean jutted up at the moment of release and he felt Cas's moan as the hot stream hit the back of his throat. 

While Dean's hips settled back down, Cas continued to suck him at a more gentle pace, easing him down from whatever the fuck just happened.

Dean was wrecked, thoroughly and completely dismantled. Cas crawled up beside the spent hunter and layed his hand on Dean's chest. Dean couldn't move and didn't particularly want to, like, ever.  
“How the hell did you do that?” Dean asked once he regained the ability to speak.

“My blowjob technique can best be described with a series of partial differential equations.” Cas explained with a smirk.  
Dean laughed and curled up around Cas, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

Dean, part horrified, part amused then realized, “Cas we didn't even kiss yet!”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don't know.”

“Third Base.”

“When did you get so funny?” said Dean, putting air quotes around 'funny'.

“You should hear me in Enochian.”

“I should do all kinds of things....and speaking of third base,” his hand wandering down Cas's chest until his made contact with his erection, “I can't help but notice that there is something I should do for you.”

Cas gasped at the touch, “Only if you want to, Dean.” 

“What part of this makes you think thee's a chance in hell that I don't want to?” Dean asked, gripping Cas's cock more tightly eliciting a pleading whimper from the soldier. Dean relished the sound and for a second felt like he was in control. “But first, hand me that journal and a pen, would ya, babe?”

Cas, confused, but willing to do whatever he asked, zapped both items to Dean.

Dean rolled to his side opening to a new page. Cas curled up behind him, pressing himself against the hunter's back. Dean pushed back lightly, feeling Cas's cock pulse between them.  
“What are you doing, Dean?”

“Being meta.” he gave the angel a wink and began writing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's turn.

“But Dean, there was still more in my....” 

“Sush...hold your horses, hot stuff, I want to play too. We'll get back to yours later, promise.” 

Dean giggled while he wrote. Dean couldn't remember the last time he he giggled...had he ever?

“How much longer, Dean?” Cas began grinding harder in anticipation. 

“Fuck, that's feels good, Cas.” Dean leaned back and enjoyed the feeling of the angel's impatient erection against his back.

“You know what else would feel good...?”

“Jeez, It's been, like, two minutes.” Dean scribbled furiously, “Just another sec...you know, it's difficult to come up with different ways to describe how hot you are.” 

“Oh, I see. That is an understandable dilemma.” Cas was really getting sassy. 

Dean finished his hastily written masterpiece, rolled over and handed the book to Cas. “Start right here....” he instructed, pointing to the top of the page.

Dean then draped his hand over Cas's chest and slowly made his way down the bed, caressing, kissing and nipping as he went. Cas watched the hunter descend down his body for moment then began to read aloud:

_Having just experienced the most mind blowing orgasm of his life, Dean was eager to reciprocate. Very eager. He wanted to rock Cas's world....make all the glories of heaven appear mundane versus what he was about to experience. Dean was still in shock that a real, down-from-heaven angel had even wanted to speak to him, yet alone make-out._

“Dean...” Only someone obsessively familiar with the subtle changes in tone would know that this indicated a mixture of sadness that Dean still felt unworthy, combined with the shock of feeling light kisses around the base of his cock. 

_Dean didn't have any powers to speak of, but if he could perform miracle, it would be to make Cas understand how much he loved him._

With that, Cas's voice slowed down, as if learning these words for the first time. His eyes misted over as he stared down adoringly at Dean.

“Yeah, yeah, come on, Cas, don't get all mushy...keep reading,” Dean encouraged and ran his tongue over his balls,“you're getting to the good part.”

Cas couldn't imagine any part being as good as hearing Dean loved him, although the ball licking was a close second. He wanted to respect Dean's wishes and really was curious about the 'good part' yet to come: 

_Then Cas, enraptured by the handsome, brilliant, adorable hunter...._

Dean looked up in time to catch the sexiest eye roll yet.

_...commanded him in his deepest, raspiest, smitiest voice, “You should show me some respect,” Cas wove his fingers into Dean's hair, “Suck my cock, Dean.” and firmly pressed him further down. Dean enthusiastically complied with the order from heaven's fiercest, hottest warrior._

“Fuck...” Cas rarely found moments when that word was appropriate. He obviously knew Dean was attracted to him by this point, but was amazed that Dean thought of him so lasciviously... not just as a nerdy little guy that Dean was fond of and possibly only interested in sexually due to the lack of other options. Castiel felt a self-assuredness he hadn't experienced since the day before appearing in that barn. 

Dean was frozen in place waiting to see how Cas would respond. Was it too much? Did he freak him out? Did Cas feel weird about Dean's desire to be spoken to like a smitee? His worry was dismissed almost immediately when he felt the angels hand on the back his head, fingers entwined in his hair, pushing him down on his now even harder cock.

Cas continued:

_Dean took Cas's thick cock into his mouth as directed, like he'd fantasized about so many times._

“Fuck....Dean...” Cas was really finding that word useful:

_Dean's tongue circled Cas's cock and his hand cupped his balls, feeling them tightened with his touch. Dean well aware he'd never done this, hoped his enthusiasm covered for his lack of experience. While continuing the pace set by the powerful angel guiding him, Dean moved a hand to Cas's chest...did angels enjoy nipple play he wondered?_

A new spark hit Cas's body when Dean's fingers brushed over, then lightly pinched his right nipple. Cas's back to arch suddenly and him to let a groan of surprise and pleasure. Dean had his answer to the nipple question. He would have smirked if he didn't have a huge dick in his mouth. 

Cas had never had so little control of his vessel (at least when he was the only one inhabiting it). Of course he knew humans had multiple erogenous zones, but hadn't imagined they could feel this good.

Dean was bobbing up and down rhythmically, thinking he'd really been wasting this talent all these years. As much as he was completely enjoying what was going on, he was still nervous. There was still one more line of dialogue to go.

Cas composed himself as much as an angel being blown by the love of his life could. He had seen there was only a small portion of Dean's entry left and wanted to do him the courtesy of completing it. As difficult a it was, Cas cleared his throat and read:

_Cas's thunderous voice spoke out again, “Dean Winchester, as a Messenger of Heaven, I say unto to you that thost shall ready yourself to be fucked into next Tuesday.”_

They locked eyes, Dean's lips still around the tip of Cas's cock, eyebrows arched questioningly, displaying an innocent look completely incongruous with the situation. Cas's look went from wide-eyed disbelief, to a soft smile to a lustful gaze a demon would envy. 

Before the abused journal hit the ground, yet again, Cas had Dean on his stomach, looming over him. He brought his lips to Dean's ear, “I love you, Dean” Cas pressed himself against Dean's ass, hard. “And I am going to fuck you into whatever day of the week you choose.”

“Cas, it just means...” before he could finish Cas's hand covered his mouth and pull his head back.

“Dean, I really don't care.” whispered Cas, now straddling the hunter's perfect ass. 

“Is this how you want it, Dean? I'm extrapolating from your story that this is how you want me to fuck you. However, I will release you and find a more pleasing configuration if I misinterpreted your intent...” 

Dean, mouth still covered, nodded enthusiastically. Cas lifted his hand to ensure there were no miscommunication. 

“Yes, Cas, this configuration...is pleasing.....very fucking pleasing...”

“Good, because I'm...pleased as well.” If Dean could see the expression on Cas's face as he looked Dean's naked body up and down, he might have had a moment of concern. 

Cas ran his hands of Dean's back, admiring every inch, while slowly bucking his hips to feel his cock rub against Dean's skin. He could still not quite believing what the hunter was allowing him....wanting him to do. 

“How much you must trust me, Dean...to willingly submit like this,” he ran his hand through is hair and down his neck adoringly, “not that you'd have a choice if I didn't want you to.”

Shit, Dean thought, that was some hot, top talk – especially from an inexperienced angel. Although actually, literally true, now that Dean thought about it...maybe that wasn't Cas getting his dom on, but simply stating a fact. Dean wan't sure which of the two possible scenarios was making his cock throb harder.

“I know it's easy to forget while I'm in this vessel, but comparatively, this is not unlike telling a hurricane or tidal wave you want it to penetrate you. You are completely at my mercy and it would take very little effort to make you come apart.” Cas kissed him across the back of his neck, his teeth lightly grazing along the way.

Dean felt every hair on his body stand up. The enormity of his trust in Cas stuck him, he'd never allowed himself to be this honest or vulnerable with anyone. He was glad he was facing down when he felt a single man tear run down his face.

Dean then learned that apparently angels keep the same things in their nightstands as humans as he heard Cas reach into the drawer and flip open a tube. Two slick fingers moved between his ass cheeks, traced around his hole...pressed lightly, then traced around again...

Dean had thought he'd been able to feel Cas stare before but never this strongly. His legs were spread further and the movement of the fingers getting faster and more determined. He tried to push into Cas's hand but his range of motion was limited, or more accurately, controlled. He continued the futile straining, even though he knew he would only get as far as he was allowed. 

Cas kept his fingers maddeningly close without actually penetrating him. He loved the feel of smooth skin contrasted with the tiny wrinkles around the pink hole. With every move he felt Dean's body begging for him. 

Dean's breath was jagged, growing more aroused and frustrated with the angel's methodical movements. He almost cried out when the touching stopped, but soon felt one hand on either side of his ass gently spreading him. Dean audibly gasped when Cas's tongue came into contact with him.

“Cas!...” 

Dean melted into every lick and flick, and fuck... push that was made. Cas lifted his head, moved his hand back in place and easily slid two fingers into Dean.

“Fuck...more...”

“Do you like that, Dean?”

“Yes, Castiel.”

Hearing Dean say his God-given name made Cas groan and his dick twitch against Dean's leg.

That was the first sign to Dean that was Cas was actually not as fully in control of himself as he appeared. 

“I want to see your face.”

“Whatever you want, Dean.”

Cas allowed Dean to flip over. Once on his back underneath Castiel, he couldn't believe he almost allowed himself to missed the look of debauchery on the angel's face.

Dean sat up enough to throw his hand around the angels neck and pull him down into a kiss, their cocks pressed between them.

“You feel so good, Cas-ti-el.” 

Dean smiled when he felt Cas's cock respond again. He was definitely going to use his full name in public more often. 

Even Castiel's watching-mountains-erode level patience was coming to an end. Cas slid the tip of his cock up and down Dean's ass, pausing only momentarily over his hole. The look of desperation on Dean's face was so...hot...that he both wanted to give Dean what he wanted and to keep him balancing on this edge. 

“You seem anxious, Dean, is there something you want?” Cas tried to ask as if he were merely trying to satisfy Dean. 

“I need you to fuck me Castiel.. I need to...” 

Teasing was over. Cas thew Dean's legs over his shoulders, aligned his cock and pushed deeply into him. 

Dean's back arched violently and he threw his head back with a grunt. 

“Dean, are you okay?” Cas asked, becoming aware again that he was a far more powerful and far less breakable than a human.

“I am so incredibly okay...that I... oh, fuck!” Dean's words were lost as Cas began pulling out to thrust back in. 

“Your ass is exquisitely tight around my cock, Dean.”

Dean wanted a cross stitch of that sentence to hang in his room. 

“Fuck me harder, angel.” Dean commanded, grabbing Cas's shoulder with one hand, digging his fingers into him. With the other hand he grasped his own cock, stoking it to the vision Castiel grinding inside him, panting furiously.

“Come for me, Cas.”

“Yes... Dean... yes...” Cas pumped into him, the creaking bed threatening to break, the heat around his cock, the orgasm building inside him like his grace shooting back inside his body...the power building in him, pushing out to the furthest tip of each extremity... 

With a final, rough thrust Cas cried out, spilling into Dean. 

Dean followed almost immediately. He was still shaking from the last waves as the hot mess of an angel collapsed on top of him with a satisfied sigh. 

“Cas, fuck...that was amazing. Let's stay right here, like this, forever.”

“That is a pleasant, but highly impractical suggestion, Dean.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short and fluffy end.

Sam returned the next morning, walking into the bunker as stealthily as he were sneaking into a vamps' nest haunted by the spirit of a vengeful wendigo. He wanted to detect the very first sign of any shenanigans so he could dart back out the door if necessary.

It seemed quiet, so he relaxed walking into the kitchen. On the counter there was a big bowl of vegetables adorned with a bow and an envelope marked 'Sammy' resting against the front of it. He could only assume this was a good sign. Opening the envelope, he was amused to see that the letter inside was comprised of both the familiar chaotic scratches Dean used to approximate handwriting, alongside some stunningly beautiful script that is generally reserved for important declarations. 

_Once upon a time there was a Moose who lived in a secret bunker with his brother, who oddly enough was a very dashing squirrel, and their friend, a snugly Dove 1. It was a weird arrangement, but they just went with it._

 _The Moose was pretty smart for a moose, he'd even been to a fancy moose college, but now he was a moose hunter...a moose that was a hunter, not a moose that hunted other moose, because that would be messed up. He was by far the best moose hunter and definitely second best all around hunter, since the Squirrel was still the most awesome._

_Anyway, this Moose saw that his brother and friend were totally hot for each other even though they were totally different species, and both emotionally stunted 2. _

_The Moose helped the Dove devise a plan since he knew both of them better than they knew themselves. He was a very intuitive moose. It also turned out that the Moose had been tricking the squirrel for months, buying girly shampoo and pretending it was his just so that the squirrel wouldn't have to nut up and buy his own (nut up...get it? The Squirrel was also hilarious)._

_And even though he knew it would mean dealing with the googly-eyed pair and overhearing their crazy sex...like really crazy, wall-shaking, sex he helped anyway._

_He was the best moose a squirrel and a dove could ask for!  
Thank you, Sammy!_

_-Dean and Cas_

_P.S. Not joking about the sex, dude. You're gonna need some serious soundproofing, because man...Cas is just out of control! 3 _

_1 The dove was not as diminutive as the description suggests._  
_2 The dove was more emotionally underdeveloped than stunted._  
_3 I assure you, Sam, I am not out of control. If anything it is your brother who is lacking control. 4_  
    _ 4 In your dreams, Cas. _

“Guys, get out here!” yelled Sam

“Sure thing little brother.” Dean came out from the hallway, followed by Cas. They looked giddy, which made Sam almost as giddy. 

“I'm glad you guys finally figured this out. I'm really happy for you.” 

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean gave him a big hug.

“Yes, thank you Sam.” Cas nodded and put his hand on Sam's shoulder, pausing awkwardly before lowering it and backing away.

“Yeah, I don't think so, you're not getting out of it that easy, Cas.” Sam lunged at the angel and enveloped him in a giant bear/Moose hug. Cas looked uncomfortable, but pleased. 

“It's amazing you had to intercede at all, because I don't know how this guy resisted all this.” Dean explained, pointed to himself as punctuation. “And let me tell ya' he looks all reserved, but once that trench coat comes off...”

“Dean!” Cas snapped.

“Yes, Honeybear?”

“Deeean.”

“Snickerdoodle?”

“Idjits, both of you.” said Sam, smiling at their teasing. While still a little icky, it was surprisingly preferable to the tense, pent-up arguments that were rarely about the thing they were actually arguing about. “At least I'm used to you guys bickering like an old married couple already.” 

“Well, maybe we'll do a lot less bickering now...you know with all the fu...”

“Dean!” Sam and Cas put a stop to that sentiment in unison.

Sam looked to the kitchen and then to his, essentially, brother-in-law, “Hey Cas, you want to help me make something with these vegetables?”

“Yes, I would like that. Maybe Dean will even try some.”

“The sex wasn't that good, Jellybean.”

Cas looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, I'll have some!” Dean acquiesced. 

Then Moose and Squirrel and Dove had lovely day cooking, eating and watching Dirty Dancing together.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fiction, so encouraging comments and gentle criticisms are welcome : )
> 
> Thank you!


End file.
